


Enjoy the Silence

by dreamofhorses



Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017) RPF
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst with a Happy Ending, Light Angst, M/M, Quiet Sex, Roleplay, Some Plot, The Author Regrets Nothing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-11
Updated: 2018-11-11
Packaged: 2019-08-21 21:10:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16584260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamofhorses/pseuds/dreamofhorses
Summary: Armie looks as closely as he knows how for any sign that Timmy is not as content as he’s always seemed to be. But no matter how hard he looks, all he sees is Timmy’s usual openness and affection. If he’s been wrong about this, if this is somehow a Timmy who’s not happier than he’s ever been before, then Armie isn’t just lost. He’s using a map of a different planet altogether.Armie finds out Timmy is usually loud during sex and gets hurt that Timmy always seems to be quiet with him. Very light angst ensues.My thanks to Bevy B for waiting basically a lifetime for me to finish this.





	Enjoy the Silence

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Bevsaywhaaa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bevsaywhaaa/gifts).



“Beer?” Timmy’s voice is bright and welcoming, but his hand shakes when he passes Armie the bottle and it clinks against the one Timmy keeps for himself.

 

“Relax, Tim. Your place is cute.” Armie would, of course, say this about anyplace Timmy took him to show Armie more of himself, anyplace that they could be alone and be  _ themselves _ . Of course he doesn’t say this.

 

Timmy blushes, takes a longer sip of his beer than he usually does, leads Armie into the living room. “Yeah, so this is our place. Giullian and me. I might try to get something closer to school now that I’m done filming but it’s a big hassle, y’know?”

 

To lighten the mood, reduce Timmy’s nerves, Armie sets the beer on the table, throws his arms out to either side. “I can touch both walls of your living room at the same time. You’re a big time actor now, treat yourself to something nicer.”

 

“Aww, come on, I’m not big time. This was just a good year, good luck, it can happen to anyone.”

 

“Anyone with talent. Anyone who works hard. Anyone who puts aside everything else in their life for the one thing they know they were born to do.” At each sentence Armie takes a step closer to Timmy until he can reach out, put a finger under Timmy’s chin, and tip Timmy’s face up to meet his. “That’s why it’s happening to you.” He plants a single kiss, gently, on Timmy’s mouth, tasting the beer Timmy’s been using to calm his nerves. Timmy sighs into it, rubs his lower lip against Armie’s, gaining in urgency until Armie pulls away just long enough to whisper into Timmy’s mouth, “Show me the bedroom.”

 

“Mmmhmmm,” Timmy murmurs, nodding, his beer forgotten on the table as he takes Armie’s hand, leads him down a hallway so short Armie reaches the end in a stride and a half. The room is lit by several lamps set on the floor or low tables, with cut glass shades that don’t match. Timmy circles the room turning them on one by one, and when he reaches Armie again, standing in the doorway, his curls are lit a lustrous green from behind while an orange triangle dances on his sharp cheekbone.

 

Then Timmy’s hand curls around the back of Armie’s neck, he goes up on tiptoes to reach Armie’s lips, and Armie’s eyes close and the colors all disappear. There is only Timmy and softness and the dark.

 

The mattress sits directly on the floor but the sheets have a high thread count. Armie feels that as soon as Timmy pushes him onto the mattress, on his back, shirt riding up so he feels cool cotton against his skin. He pulls his shirt the rest of the way off with one hand while Timmy fumbles at his waist, unbuttoning, unzipping Armie’s jeans, throwing them into a corner, muttering “Christ, Hammer, I know your butt’s cute but do you have to wear tight jeans  _ all the time _ ?” Then Timmy stops talking because his mouth is on Armie, taking him in,  _ all of him _ , saying something around Armie’s cock that sounds like  _ god I missed you _ but Armie can’t be sure.

 

“I love that you can’t shut up even when you’re sucking me off,” Armie grins, tangling his fingers in Timmy’s curls. He’d happily let Timmy do this all night but they haven’t seen each other in way too long and there’s no way Armie’s going to be selfish. “Hey.” He tugs on the fistful of curls. “My turn.”

 

He pulls Timmy up, wraps his arms around Timmy’s ribcage, pulls him up until Timmy’s full length rests atop him, Timmy’s head nestled under Armie’s chin, and for a moment it’s all texture, Timmy’s insistent curls on his neck and Timmy’s soft sweater against his chest and Timmy’s worn socks rubbing against Armie’s feet and the pressure of Timmy’s jeans as he presses so slowly against Armie’s cock that he seems to think Armie doesn’t notice. 

 

Oh, he notices. He presses a kiss to the top of Timmy’s head and rolls them over so now it’s his turn to fumble at Timmy’s waist, throw him a look that says  _ you have no right to scold anyone else about skinny jeans, mister _ , and add Timmy’s pants to the growing pile of denim in the corner. There’s a noise from the hallway, a rattle and then silence.

 

“It’s just G,” Timmy whispers. “If he’s not talking then he must be alone and I bring people here all the time. It’s fine.” Armie cocks an eyebrow at Timmy, playing unsure even though frankly the thought of someone else overhearing is a bit arousing. Timmy raises himself on one elbow, throws his sweater into the corner. He wraps his legs around Armie, flexing to pull him closer. “Please,” Timmy whispers, “please.”

 

That’s all it takes. Armie pulls Timmy’s gray boxers down, whips them aside so fast he sees some colors on the wall move as a lamp almost topples over. Then there it is: all that skin, that creamy skin that he’s been waiting to touch, mark, bite, lick. Timmy’s hard already, reaching for Armie, pleading, rolling his lower lip between his teeth. “Come on, please, it’s been so long.”

 

With a devilish smile Armie lowers his head between Timmy’s legs, licking up his cock starting at the base, and already Timmy’s whimpering so loudly, and when Armie reaches the head and takes it into his mouth, running his tongue around the outer edge Timmy’s hands fist in the sheets and he’s just muttering  _ fuck fuck fuck _ over and over again. He takes Timmy’s length in his mouth fully, bobs up and down a couple of times, brings one hand to Timmy’s balls and starts to stroke downward. He teases at Timmy’s hole with his middle finger and Timmy sighs, “God, yes.” Armie pulls off, looks quizzically to either side of the bed, and finally Timmy gets it, lifts out of his sex fog, reaches into a drawer of the bedside table and tosses Armie the lube. 

 

He warms Timmy up with his mouth, one hand still working Timmy’s cock while Armie’s tongue circles Timmy’s entrance, feeling him relax more and more with each breath. Armie slicks up one finger with lube, presses past the rim, and Timmy’s words shift to a stream of vowels. He circles his finger lazily, watching Timmy’s head thrash from side to side on the pillow, and suddenly knows what he wants. No, what he  _ needs _ .

 

When Armie pulls both his hands away from Timmy suddenly, Timmy yelps and sits up on his elbows on the bed. “What are you doing?” he whines, biting at his lower lip and rubbing his legs against Armie’s side, still seeking friction.

  
  


Armie slides up the mattress until he’s parallel to Timmy, plants a deceptively chaste kiss on his forehead. He presses the lube bottle into Timmy’s hand, gets his mouth at Timmy’s ear. Whispers, a word at a time, sinking his canines into Timmy’s earlobe between each one. “I. Want. You. To. Fuck. Me.”

 

When he gets the sentence out Timmy  _ moans _ , eyes closed, and when he opens them and meets Armie’s again the darkness and mischief Armie loves to see are there waiting for him. “Yes,  _ sir _ ,” Timmy smirks, and scrambles to the end of the bed. Armie shifts to the center of the bed, brackets Timmy with his knees, rolls his hips back, feels his hard cock bounce against his stomach. Timmy’s already got the lube open, squeezing it onto his hand, warming it, and Armie closes his eyes so that when he feels Timmy’s elegant finger press into him it’s almost a surprise. He relaxes, breathes, and Timmy’s fitting two fingers into him and then three, talking all the while, “Armie, god, you’re so tight, I missed this so much, I can’t wait to feel you.” When Timmy takes his hand away Armie opens his eyes just in time to feel Timmy’s cock nudge him, almost shy at first and then insistent, and when he slides in he pushes all the way to the root and the room falls silent. 

 

It's a silence Armie recognizes, heard for the first time in Crema when they'd both had so much wine, were wrestling on Timmy's couch, and Armie's hand slipped between Timmy's legs. Timmy's giggles, protests, half-hearted pleading had stopped dead. He'd just caught Armie's gaze, held it in silence, covered Armie's hand with his own, and started to move their hands together. And the silence has always fallen afterward, at the moments when Timmy arches his back off the mattress and it seems like his whole being tightens around Armie's cock, or the times when he's driving into Armie in rooms lit only by streetlights, late at night and cold, satisfying a need they can't describe but can only enact. 

 

That's the silence in the room now. Armie's eyes fall closed and then there's nothing but the sensation of Timmy within him, the feel of Timmy's heartbeat with the pulsing of his cock, the echoing rhythm of Timmy's thrusts into him growing more and more urgent, and Armie starts to move to match them, meeting Timmy at the peak of each movement until Timmy gasps a breath that leaves no air in his lungs and his release floods Armie, a physical expression of their need. At that Armie touches his own cock and needs only two or three strokes to bring himself off onto his stomach and hand, giggling afterward, falling onto Timmy's chest, leaving them both spent and sticky as they fall asleep. 

 

The next morning Armie awakes to a cold bed and a text from Timmy:  _ sorry, had a really early audition! Back by 10.  _ Armie glances at the phone clock: 9:15. Just enough time for a famed New York bagel before Timmy returns. He works his half-awake limbs into some sweatpants and stumbles into the kitchen in search of coffee.

 

“Hey, Casanova,” Giullian greets him, teasing but fond. “Figured you were still here so,” he tips his head toward the coffee pot, “made a pot strong enough to stand on its own. Just the way you like it.” He passes Armie a full mug.

 

At times like this, when he’s half-awake and least expecting it, Armie is still shocked by the openness of Timmy’s friends. He still has secrets that even Nick doesn’t know, but all of Timmy’s friends seem to think nothing is too personal to share.

 

As if to prove that thought, Giullian nudges Armie with his elbow as he passes on his way back to his bedroom. “You guys passed out early, huh?” He winks, clinks coffee mugs briefly with Armie. “Don’t worry, I’m gonna sleep over at Kristina’s tonight so you can have a proper reunion.”

 

It must be earlier in the morning than Armie thought. “G, what...what are you talking about?”

 

“Oh, just...when I first got in last night I...I did hear you guys. I wasn’t trying but,” Giullian shrugs. “Perils of being a roommate. And I was gonna go to my room and put some music on because Timmy gets loud as--wait, um, well, I guess you already know that.” Giullian himself seems close to blushing. “I’ve got a routine for when he brings people home, I just play around with my headset or try and write a song. But you guys must have passed out before my system even booted up. Don’t worry, I’m gonna leave in an hour or so, probably right after Timmy gets back. It’ll be  _ all yours _ .” Giullian grins again, mischievously, and leaves Armie in the kitchen holding a cup of very strong, now very cold coffee.

 

That’s where Timmy finds him about half an hour later. Armie’s still leaning on the kitchen counter, still sipping the same tasteless mug of coffee mindlessly. Timmy goes up on his toes to kiss Armie hello, sucks in a breath, makes a void of that same silence that has always enveloped them at times when Armie thought they were closest. Now the silence feels like a space Armie might never fill. Timmy had never been loud with him, never made noises, and Armie always thought it was because he was overwhelmed, attentive, awash in sensation. Now he’s afraid it’s because there were things Timmy wanted to say, was willing to say to everyone else, but Armie was the only one not worthy of hearing them.

 

“How was the audition?” Armie asks, and as Timmy answers him, halting at first and then finding his stride in a tumble of words, thin fingers waving everywhere, Armie looks as closely as he knows how for  _ any _ sign that Timmy is not as content as he’s always seemed to be. But no matter how hard he looks, all he sees is Timmy’s usual openness and affection. If he’s been wrong about this, if this is somehow a Timmy who’s not happier than he’s ever been before, then Armie isn’t just lost. He’s using a map of a different planet altogether.

 

“--and the casting director said it was the most memorable audition they’d seen for the role, but I just don’t know if that’s a  _ good thing _ , you know?” Timmy’s voice is muffled and coming from inside the fridge where he’s shuffling cans around in search of his favorite cold brew coffee. Giullian breezes into the room, a backpack dangling off one shoulder. 

 

“Hey, T, I’m going to Kristina’s for date night. Don’t wait up, ‘K?” Giullian winks at Armie over Timmy’s murmured assent noises from the fridge. The door slams loudly behind him and Armie can’t help thinking that’s intentional, to let them know they’re alone now.

 

Apparently Timmy thinks the same thing. When his head reappears over the refrigerator door his eyes twinkle dangerously.”I’m fluent in Giullian,” he murmurs as he closes the door, coffee suddenly forgotten. “If he says  _ don’t wait up _ , that means he’s not coming home.” He starts to cross the kitchen to Armie, placing one foot in front of the other like he’s on a tightrope. “That means we’re. All. Alone. Tonight.” He punctuates each of the last words with a step closer to Armie until he’s pressed full length against Armie’s front, but Timmy makes no move to touch. He just tips his head up and locks his forest green stare on Armie.

 

That’s all it takes to send Armie over the edge, to make him wrap a hand over Timmy’s jawline, pull his head close and sprinkle kisses and tiny nibbles all over Timmy’s creamy neck. But as they stumble toward the bedroom Armie’s head clears just enough for an idea to occur to him. A way, possibly the only way, to know if Timmy has been faking it with him all along, feeling less than he has for anyone before while pretending to feel more. Amid the stained glass of the bedroom, as Timmy tumbles onto the bed before him, coquettishness gone and replaced by eagerness, Armie rasps against Timmy’s ear and hopes it’s convincing. “How would you like it if we played a little game?”

 

“Oooh,” Timmy purrs in response, hands already at the waistband of his jeans. “What kind of game?”   
  


“Like...pretending,” Armie murmurs, bracketing Timmy’s torso with his arms and lowering himself until their cocks rub together through their clothes.

 

“Like...oooh, like you just saved my life and I want to find a way to repay you?” The glint in Timmy’s eyes kindles into a bonfire.

 

Armie’s heartbeat moves to his cock so fast he’s surprised he can still speak. “Yeah, yeah, that works,” he hisses, and then, so fast Timmy doesn’t even see him move, Armie’s scooped Timmy off the bed, up into his arms, and like it’s second nature Timmy throws an arm over Armie’s shoulder and leans his head into Armie’s chest. He coughs a couple of times, low and quiet, and although Armie knows it’s not real he can’t stop himself from dropping a kiss on the crown of Timmy’s head. He walks in a square once around Timmy’s mattress for effect, then sets Timmy down gently on the edge. Timmy sags into Armie as he tries to move away and Armie thinks again  _ this kid is such a fucking great actor _ .

 

“Hey, hey,” Armie whispers. “Look at me. You’re lucky to have escaped that fire. Let’s make sure you’re okay.” He moves his hand and Timmy follows it with his eyes. Armie smooths a curl from Timmy’s forehead. “I think you’ll be fine with a little rest.”

 

Timmy turns his head, chases Armie’s touch. “Are you sure about that?” he asks, his voice already so low that Armie’s mind has to fill in the vowels. “It was so kind and brave of you to rush in after me like that...I’d love to,” and at this his hand drifts to Armie’s hip, thumb rubbing Armie’s hip beneath the waistband of his pants. “I’d love to show you my appreciation.”

 

As Timmy’s hands drift toward the button on Armie’s jeans, he tips his head up, meets Armie’s eyes. He sucks his lower lip between his teeth and Armie gasps involuntarily. Timmy slides Armie’s zipper down with two fingers, never breaking the eye contact, and when he’s got his prize, when Armie’s jeans and boxers puddle at his feet and his cock bobs free in the warm room, Timmy presses his lips to the soft skin of Armie’s stomach. “You’re just--you’re so strong, and you saved me, and this seems like the least I could do.” He digs his fingers into the backs of Armie’s thighs and Armie pushes Timmy onto his back on the bed, lowering himself onto Timmy as they go.

 

“Well, if you insist,” Armie growls, tangling a hand in Timmy’s curls and meeting his lips in a kiss.

 

Armie remembers the first time he kissed Timmy, just Timmy and not Elio, the feeling of a glass wall shattering between them, no feigned awkwardness or need, just two people finding the closest thing they could to breathing as one person. This is the kiss he gets from Timmy now, full and affectionate, no character behind it, and as he pulls away long enough to tug at Timmy’s shirt and watch him shimmy out of his jeans, he can’t pretend there’s a helpless victim beneath him on the bed. There’s only Timmy, eyes glinting mischievously in a way they never would if he’d just narrowly escaped death. When Timmy flops back dramatically on the bed, nibbling his lips and grabbing Armie’s waist, kneading the skin with his hands, Armie  _ knows, knows _ it will kill the mood and their careful role-playing, but he’s never been very good at controlling himself.

 

He buries his head in Timmy’s chest and bursts out laughing.

 

From above he hears Timmy huff, a mix between a snort and a confused chuckle, and then start laughing too. “Armie, what in the world? This was your idea, but I can’t take you seriously if you’re gonna laugh through the whole thing.” Timmy ruffles Armie’s hair affectionately.

 

Armie sighs. “God, Tim, I should have just asked you about this in the first place. This role play thing was a silly idea. I mean, you’re already the perfect person for me. Why would I ever ask you to act like someone else?” He rolls to one side, props himself on one hand, bicep resting on the bed. Timmy pouts for a moment at the loss of their playful intimacy, but when he sees that Armie’s eyes are growing serious he turns his full gaze to Armie, one hand resting lightly on his chest.

 

“So this morning when you left I was here with Giullian for a while,” Armie explains. Timmy raises an eyebrow quizzically but keeps listening. “And G was teasing me because--” Armie can feel the color start to rise in his cheeks and curses how easily he’s always blushed. “ _ Because he says you’re always loud during sex and he didn’t even think we were fucking last night because you were so quiet _ .” The whole sentence comes out in a rush, a single breath, and Armie addresses it to the sheets between them instead of to Timmy himself. He breathes twice, hoping to bring down the flush in his cheeks, and then raises his eyes to meet Tim’s.

 

Timmy’s gaze has at least five emotions in it and maybe a couple more Armie has never seen before. Pure affection is the one that shines through the most, though, and before he even speaks Timmy raises himself on one elbow and presses a single, chaste kiss to Armie’s lips. He moves away enough to speak but stays close enough to caress Armie’s hip and back with his free hand. “Well, how about we address the non-mortifying part of that first, and wait till later for the part where my roommate has been listening to me have sex for god knows how long. I mean, I know what he’s talking about, I just never thought it would matter to anyone. I never thought it would come up. But, Armie, it’s because--” Timmy’s voice starts to grow low and hoarse. “With all those other people it felt like there was something I still needed to say. That’s me trying to tell them something with my voice because our bodies can’t say it all. But with you it’s like--” Timmy takes Armie’s free hand and presses it to his own chest while he presses his hand on Armie’s heart. Armie could swear their hearts are beating in time. “As soon as our bodies come together there’s nothing left to say. It’s just sensation, and all I can do is absorb it and hope I don’t forget the feeling of you inside me, around me, everywhere. There’s nothing--” Timmy presses his lips to Armie’s, punctuating each word with a kiss. “Left. To. Say.”

 

Armie moans against Timmy’s lips and when Timmy rolls into him, and then Armie rolls onto his back, he goes along with it helplessly.  _ Because he’s right, of course _ . Timmy chuckles as he reaches into the nightstand for lube, moans as he turns his back to Armie and starts to finger himself open. Armie reaches to touch but Timmy bats his hand away. “Take a break and just watch, why don’t you? You’ve worked too hard today,” Timmy teases. When Timmy’s taken three fingers Armie can’t wait anymore, pulls roughly at Timmy’s thigh and feels precum drip onto his stomach at the look in Timmy’s eyes when he turns around. “God, I can’t wait to feel you,” Timmy murmurs, and Armie’s finally touching him, running his hands over Timmy’s ribs and down to his hips, digging his thumbs into the creases at the tops of Timmy’s thighs. Then Timmy sinks down onto Armie’s cock, taking him in all at once, and Timmy sucks in a breath, hard and loud.

 

And then there’s silence. It’s the most beautiful thing Armie’s ever heard.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm dreamofhorses42 on Tumblr, come say hi!


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